The Fight in the Woods.
The next morning, after breakfast, the trapper took down his long
rifle, saying, as he did so:
"Now, youngsters, I'm goin' off into the woods, about twenty mile or
so, to camp out for a week, an' see if I can't find some otter. If you
want good sport, you had better go, too. The game is gettin' too
scarce around here to suit me."
The boys readily agreed to this proposal, and began to talk of packing
their sleds; but the trapper scouted the idea.
"You'll never larn to be what I call woodsmen," said he, "until you
get rid of some of your city notions. You must larn to tote all your
plunder on your backs. Just fill your possible-sacks[1] with coffee
and bread; take plenty of powder an' shot, a change of clothes, an ax
or two, an' some blankets, and that's all you need."
[Footnote 1: Haversack.]
These simple preparations were soon completed, and, after bidding
Uncle Joe good-by, they set out, accompanied by their dogs.
Dick carried the "Old Settler," and had his blanket strapped fast to
his belt. Frank and George each carried an ax. Archie had several of
his fox-traps, which he could not think of leaving behind; and Harry
brought up the rear, carrying a large bundle of blankets. Besides
these necessary articles, the boys carried their shot-guns, and the
trapper his long rifle.
Dick led the way directly up the creek, following the same course they
had taken the day before in pursuit of the Indians, for about ten
miles, and then struck off into the woods. About noon they halted in a
little grove of evergreens, and the trapper said:
"We'll camp here for awhile, youngsters, an' eat our dinner."
The boys were very glad to hear this; for, strong and active as they
were, they found that they were no match for Dick in traveling.
Archie and George leaned their guns up against a tree, took the axes,
and commenced to clear away a place where they could build a fire.
"Now," said the trapper, turning to the others, "we'll leave them here
to 'tend to the camp, an' make a good cup of coffee for us agin we
come back, an' the rest of us will take a tramp through the woods, an'
see what we can get for dinner. Take different directions now, so as
to scare up more game."
The boys immediately set out as directed, each accompanied by his dog.
Brave ran on ahead of his master, beating about through the bushes,
but not a rabbit or squirrel showed himself. But Frank kept on, taking
good care to remember the points of the compass, determined that he
would not go back to the camp empty-handed. At length Brave's
well-known bark caused him to start forward at a more rapid pace, and
the next moment he heard some heavy animal crashing through the
underbrush, just in advance of him, at a tremendous rate. The woods
were so thick that Frank could not see the game, but the angry yelping
of the dog told him that it was being closely pursued. Guided by the
noise they made, he followed after them as fast as his legs could
carry him, keeping a sharp look-out on all sides, for he did not know
but that it might be a bear which the dog had started. He remembered
his meeting with the wild-cat, but felt no fear now, for he had his
trusty gun in his hand, heavily loaded with buck-shot, and knew, from
experience, that, at short range, it was a very efficient weapon. His
first care was to find the trail which the game had made, and, upon
examination, he found that Brave had started, not a bear, but several
moose. He knew their tracks in a moment, for he had often seen them in
the woods; but he could not tell how many of them there were, for
their trails crossed each other in every direction. He had never had
the fortune to meet one of these animals, and his feelings were worked
up to the highest pitch of excitement by the discovery. He started
forward again at the top of his speed. The rapid pace of the game soon
carried all sounds of the chase out of hearing; but Frank had no
difficulty in following the trail. He had run nearly a mile, when the
angry yelps of the dog sounded through the woods in fiercer and more
abrupt echoes. Frank hurried forward, and soon came in sight of the
game. The moose--a huge bull, with wide-spreading antlers--was
standing at bay, and the dog was bounding around him, watching an
opportunity to seize him, but was met at every point. Now and then the
moose would lower his head, and rush upon his enemy, but the latter
nimbly kept out of his way.
Frank did not pause long to witness the battle, but immediately ran
forward, holding his gun in readiness for a shot. The moose, upon
discovering him, suddenly wheeled, and started off at a rapid trot.
The snow in that part of the woods was nearly three feet deep, and was
covered with a crust strong enough to sustain the hunter and his dog,
but the moose sank into it at every step, and his trail could be
easily traced by the blood which was running from numerous wounds on
his legs, made by the sharp crust. He ran heavily, and Frank, who was
exerting himself to his utmost, had the satisfaction of finding that
he was gaining on him. Brave easily kept pace with him and finally
succeeded in bringing the moose at bay again. This was what Frank
wanted. Just as the deer was about to make a charge upon the dog, he
fired, and the huge animal tumbled to the ground. The young hunter ran
forward, intending to give him the contents of the other barrel, but,
before he could fire, the moose staggered to his feet, and
disregarding the attacks of the dog, which were renewed with redoubled
fierceness and vigor, rushed straight upon the hunter, and bore him to
the ground.
In falling, Frank lost his gun. The enraged animal pressed upon the
young hunter, burying his antlers in the snow on each side of him,
holding him fast to the ground. Frank gave himself up for lost; but he
determined that he would not yield his life without a struggle. He was
unarmed, and the contest must be one of strength and endurance. Before
the moose could draw back to make another charge upon him, Frank
seized him by the antlers, and clung to them with all his strength.
Brave seemed to understand the perilous situation in which his master
was placed, and fought more furiously than ever. But the moose,
although severely wounded by the teeth of the dog, did not appear to
notice him in the least, but struggled desperately to free himself
from the young hunter's grasp. Frank was dragged about through the
snow, and pressed down into it, until his clothing was almost reduced
to tatters; and he was severely wounded by the sharp crust and the
hoofs of the enraged deer, which cut through his garments like a
knife. It required all his strength to retain his hold. He did not
seem to be in the least frightened; but the manner in which he clung
to the moose, and cheered on the dog, showed that he well knew the
danger of his situation. But he was growing weaker every moment, while
the moose appeared to be growing proportionately stronger, and his
struggles became more furious and determined. Frank knew that the
animal would soon succeed in freeing himself, and then----. It was a
horrible thought!
At this moment he heard the noise of approaching feet on the crust,
and a voice exclaimed, "Bars and buffaler! Hang on to the creetur jest
a minute longer, youngster! Take 'em, dog! take 'em!" And the next
instant a dark object bounded lightly over him, and commenced a
furious battle with the moose. Benumbed and exhausted, Frank could
hold out no longer. As the moose tore himself from his grasp, the
young hunter saw him pulled to the ground by the trapper's dog, and
then a mist gathered before his eyes, and he sank back on the snow
insensible.
When his consciousness returned, he found himself in a
rudely-constructed hut, lying in front of a blazing fire, and so
tightly wrapped up in blankets that he could scarcely breathe. Dick
sat in one corner of the hut, smoking his pipe, and gazing vacantly
into the fire. Brave lay stretched out by his master's side, with his
head resting on his shoulder, gazing into his face with every
expression of concern. As soon as Frank opened his eyes, the faithful
animal announced the fact by a joyful bark, which brought all the boys
into the hut.
"How do you feel, Frank?" inquired Archie, whose pale face showed that
he had more than a common interest in his cousin's well-being.
"O! I'm all right," answered Frank, in a weak voice. "But you've got
me bundled up so tight I can hardly breathe. I wish you would take a
dozen or two of these blankets off."
"No, you don't," said Dick, as the boys crowded up around Frank. "I
believe I've got the bossin' of this yere job. Here," he continued, as
he arose from his seat and approached his patient, "drink this;" and
he raised Frank from his blankets with one hand, and, with the other,
held to his lips a cup containing some of the most bitter stuff he had
ever drank. The young hunter made wry faces over it, but succeeded in
draining the cup. "Now," resumed Dick, "lay down agin an' go to sleep.
Shut up! No back talk!" he continued, as Frank essayed to speak. "You
musn't talk till I say you may;" and the rough but kind-hearted
trapper laid him back on his bed, and, drawing the blankets more
closely about him, left him to his meditations.
He soon fell off into a refreshing slumber; and when he awoke it was
dark, and his companions were seated around the fire, eating their
supper.
"Wal, youngster," said Dick, "how do you feel now?"
"O! I'm much better," answered Frank; "and hungry as blazes. Won't you
give a fellow some thing to eat?"
"In course," said Dick; and he brought Frank some pieces of toast and
a cup of coffee.
"I don't like your style of doctoring a bit," said Frank, as the
trapper carefully removed the blankets with which his patient was
enveloped. "The remedies you use are worse than the disease. You've
kept me wrapped up so tight that I am sore all over."
"I shouldn't wonder," said the trapper, laughing heartily; "but that
doesn't come of bein' wrapped up in the blankets. You war purty well
chawed up when me an' Useless diskivered you."
Dick raised Frank to a sitting posture, and, in spite of his
objections, once more drew the blankets about him, allowing him,
however, the free use of his arms; and the young hunter soon
discovered that he was not quite so well as he had imagined, for sharp
pains shot through his body, and he was so weak he could scarcely sit
up.
"I believe I had something of a fight with that moose, didn't I?" he
inquired, as he broke off a piece of the toast.
"I believe you did, judging from the looks of your clothes," answered
Harry, as he laid down his plate, and took from a peg in one corner of
the hut all that remained of Frank's garments.
The coat and pants were torn almost into shreds, and covered with
blood, and the sole of one of his boots had been pulled off by the
sharp hoofs of the deer. Brave had also suffered severely, judging
from the bloody bandages that he wore.
"It was a narrow escape, wasn't it?" said Frank, as he gazed in
astonishment at his tattered garments.
"Yes, indeed," said Archie; "I shouldn't have cared about being in
your boots just then. How you ever made out to get out of those
clothes alive, is more than I can tell."
"It war a careless trick," said Dick, "tacklin' that animal in that ar
way. You ought to knowed better."
"Well, we got the moose, didn't we?" inquired Frank.
"Yes," answered George, chewing away at a large piece of meat; "and we
are eating him up as fast as we can."
As soon as Frank had finished his toast and coffee, he was glad to lie
down again, for he was still very weak from the loss of blood. The
others, after putting away the supper-dishes, replenished the fire,
and stretched themselves out on their blankets.
"How do you feel now, youngster?" asked the trapper, as he drew a
brand from the fire and lit his pipe.
"O! I guess I shall get along."
"It's a'most time for you to take some more of your medicine."
"I don't care about taking any more of it," answered Frank. "It's the
meanest stuff I ever tasted."
"It's Injun medicine," answered the trapper, as he sank back on his
blanket, and puffed away vigorously at his pipe. "I remember," he
continued, after a few moments' pause, "of doctorin' up my chum, Bill
Lawson, an' that war the way me an' him come to get acquainted. But he
war used to Injun doctorin', and didn't growl as much as you do. I've
heered him tell of that scrape a hundred times; an' he used to tell it
in this way:
"'The way me an' Dick Lewis come to get together,' he used to say,
'war this. I war onct trappin' among the mountains on a little stream
called Muddy Creek. It war about the wust bit of Injun country in the
world; but they didn't bother me, an' I tuk mighty good care not to
meddle with their corn an' beans, an' for a long time I had jest the
best kind of luck in trappin'. Beaver were plenty as black flies in
summer, an' the woods war chuck full o' otter, an' the mountains of
grizzly bars an' black-tails, so I had plenty to do.
"'I had made my camp in the woods, about a mile back from the creek
where I war trappin', so as not to skeer away the game. Beaver is
mighty skeery animals, an' don't like to have a feller trampin' around
them all the while; and when a man sets a trap, he musn't go to it
agin afore arly the next mornin', for if he does, the game soon gets
mighty shy, an' the first thing the trapper knows, he'll have to hunt
somewhere else for beaver. You see I knowed all this, an' so kept out
of their way. I got along first-rate, until arly in the spring, jest
as the ice begun to break up, an' hadn't seed nothin' of the Injuns.
But one mornin', while I war on my way to 'tend to my traps, I seed
the prints of some moccasins, where three or four fellers had crossed
the creek. I knowed in a minit, from the looks of them, that they
wasn't white fellers' tracks; so I begun to prick up my ears an' look
around me a little. I examined the trail agin, an' I knowed there
could be no mistake. The Comanches had been along there, sure. I begun
beatin' keerfully around through the bushes, for I didn't know but
that the tarnal red-skins war watchin' me all the time; when all to
onct I come acrost another trail, which war as different from the
first as a muskrat is different from a grizzly. It war a white
feller's track. The tracks looked as though he had been crawlin' along
on his hands an' knees, an' onct in awhile I could see the place where
the butt of his rifle had trailed on the ground. I knowed in a minit
that the white hunter, whoever he war, had been follerin' up the
Injuns.
"'"Wal," thinks I, "Bill Lawson, you had better keep an eye out for
them traps o' yourn." So I begun to draw a bee-line through the woods
toward the place where I had sot one o' my traps, keepin' my gun ready
to put a chunk of lead into the first thing in the shape of an Injun
that I should see. But instead o' goin' up to my trap in the way I
generally did, I went round so as to come up on the other side. Purty
soon I begun to come near the place where the trap was sot; so I
dropped down on all-fours, an' commenced to crawl through the thick
brush. I knowed I should have to be mighty keerful, for an Injun has
got ears like a painter, an' he allers keeps 'em open, too. Wal, purty
soon I poked my head over a log, an' peeked through the bushes; an'
what do you think I seed? There war my trap, with a big beaver in it,
ketched fast by the hind leg; an' right behind some big trees that
stood near the trap war three Injuns, listenin', an' watchin', an'
waitin' for me to come an' get my game.
"'"That's the way you painted heathen watch for a white gentleman, is
it," thinks I; "I'll fix some o' you." So I drawed my knife an'
tomahawk, an' laid them on the ground beside me, an' then, arter
examinin' my rifle to see that it war all right, I drawed a bead on
the biggest Injun, an' fired. He rolled over, dead as a door nail, an'
the others jumped up an' yelled like two screech owls. I didn't stop
to ax no questions; but, throwin' away my rifle, I grabbed up my knife
an' tomahawk, an' walked into 'em.
"'They both fired as I came up--one missed, an' the other tuk me in
the leg, an' kerflumux I come to the ground. The Injuns thought they
had me now, sure, an' they came toward me, drawin' their knives an'
yellin' like mad. But I war on my pins agin in less than no time; an',
standin' as well as I could on my broken leg, I swung my tomahawk
around my head, an' let fly at the nighest Injun. It tuk him plumb
atween the eyes, an' I knowed that the work war done for him. But the
next minit the other heathen clinched me, an', liftin' me off my legs,
throwed me to the ground like a log. He had two legs to use, an' I had
only one; there war where he had the advantage of me. But I had the
use of my hands; an' I jest made up my mind that if he wanted my scalp
he would have to work for it; so, quick as lightnin', I grabbed the
hand that held the knife, an' give it a squeeze that actooally made
the bones crack, an' the rascal give one yell, an' let go the weapon.
Then, with the other hand, I ketched him by the scalp-lock, an' done
my best to turn him, knowin' that if I could onct get on top of him, I
would be all right; but I couldn't use my leg; so, thinks I, I'll hold
him here awhile, an' I pulled his head down close to me. But I had
bled so much that I begun to give out; an' the Injun, who hadn't made
a move arter I got hold of his har, knowed that I war growin' weak,
an' the first thing I knowed, he broke away from me, an' sprung to his
feet. I tried to get up too, but the Injun grabbed up his knife, an'
pinned me agin. I fit as well as I could, but the rascal knowed I
couldn't do nothin'; and, placing one knee on my breast to hold me
down, he put one hand to his mouth, an' give a loud yell.
"'It war answered close by, an' somebody come out o' the bushes. At
first I thought it war another Injun comin' up to help rub me out; but
another look showed me that it war a white feller. He didn't stop to
ax no questions, but made a dash at the Comanche, who got off me in a
tarnal hurry, an' callin' out some name that showed that he knowed who
the white feller war, he begun to make tracks; but he hadn't gone ten
foot afore the trapper had him by the neck. The fight war mighty
short, for the Comanche wasn't nowhere--the trapper handled him as
though he had been a baby, an' in less than two minits he war a dead
Injun.'
"That's the way ole Bill used to tell his story," continued Dick; "an'
he allers used to pint me out as the man that saved him. The white
feller's trail that he seed by the creek war my own, an' I war
follerin' up the Comanches. Wal, I tuk the old man back to his camp,
an', arter two months' doctorin', I got him all right agin. When he
got well, he wouldn't let me leave him, nor I didn't want to, for he
war jest the kind of a man I wanted for a chum. He hated an Injun as
bad as I did, an' I used to like to listen to the stories he told of
his fights with them. How do you come on now, youngster?"
"O! I feel pretty well," answered Frank, "only I'm a little weak."
"You can thank your lucky stars that you wasn't rubbed out
altogether," said the trapper, as he approached the young hunter. "Me
an' Useless got there jest in time. But you won't allers be so lucky."
After wrapping Frank up carefully in the blankets again, he knocked
the ashes from his pipe, and sought his own couch.